


A Sprawling Tangle of Blacks

by unspeakable3



Series: welcome to the most noble and ancient house of black [92]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Gen, POV Sirius Black, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Prompt Posse, Sirius Black-centric, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Young Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22348342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unspeakable3/pseuds/unspeakable3
Summary: He hated them, collectively. That was a given. They were the Inbred and Most Bullshit House of Black and he hated them.But he didn’t hate all of them, as individuals.
Relationships: Alphard Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Sirius Black & Andromeda Black Tonks, Sirius Black & Black Family
Series: welcome to the most noble and ancient house of black [92]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1395592
Comments: 9
Kudos: 106





	A Sprawling Tangle of Blacks

He hated them, collectively. That was a given. They were the Inbred and Most Bullshit House of Black and he hated them.

But he didn’t hate _all_ of them, as individuals.

Alphard understood what it was like to be different, to feel at odds to the rest of your family. He had meant to inherit Berkeley and father more little Black sons but had scoffed at the very thought, flew off to Egypt or Nepal or Tibet, and left it all to his little brother Cygnus instead.

When the children were children, Alphard would return from faraway lands in a cloud of musky cologne, a swish of an ornately-embroidered cloak, his pockets filled with glittering trinkets and mysterious objects, his head filled with tales to delight and enchant. Sirius would follow him around for days or weeks, however long Alphard could stand to stay, and beg to hear more.

Alphard had promised to take him on a tour after he left Hogwarts, to see the Pyramids and track down a Yeti and take a boat the entire length of the Amazon. He had died before that could happen, struck down (so they claimed) by a sudden illness in a remote village in Eastern Africa.

Perhaps, once the war was over, Sirius would use the rest of Alphard’s money and do the tour himself. Perhaps he would take Moony. Alphard would have liked Moony.

Alphard liked Andromeda, too. Andromeda could be cold and aloof like her sisters, but Sirius knew that she was as warm and comforting as butterbeer on a winter’s day on the inside. She had always sheltered him from Narcissa’s fussing and Bellatrix’s tempers, leading him deep into the garden maze at Grandfather Arcturus’s or lying in the cornfields at the back of Aunt Cass’s or hiding up the old elm tree in the garden at Berkeley.

She was a better mother, a better _person_ , than any of the other witches in the family. She smiled, and she laughed - a bright, joyful thing, not a sneer or a snigger or a simper. She let little Dora run free, dirty her knees, tangle her hair, chatter loudly, ask as many questions as she liked. She sang her lullabies and told her bedtime stories. She did voices, though Sirius thought he was _way_ better at accents. Dora did too.

Andromeda understood the importance of doing the right thing, even if it hurt your family. Even if it hurt your siblings. She had fallen in love with a wizard - a brilliant, kind, _hilarious_ wizard - whom she knew they would never accept. She had given up her jewels, her silks, her house-elf and her money and her sisters and _everything_ to be with Ted. One rainy afternoon Sirius had asked her if she had ever regretted it. She had replied that she had, just once, when she had had to walk alone down the aisle at her wedding with neither father nor sisterly bridesmaid to accompany her.

Aunt Cass was a frigid old bat but she had let Sirius fly her horses as high as he liked, let him whoop loudly and sleep out in the stables to wait for the foals to be born. Granny Belvina was deaf as anything and so blind she had often mistaken him for one of her dogs (if only she had known him as Padfoot!) but she was a right hoot after a few gins. Even Grandfather Arcturus was less intimidating once you got him talking about Plimpies.

But out of all of them, out of that entire sprawling tangle of Blacks, it was Regulus that he hated least of all.

Soft in the head and soft in the heart, little baby Reg just wanted to make everyone happy. Sirius wondered if he’d learnt, finally, that they would never be happy. That they, especially Mother, were _incapable_ of such an emotion and that he would just end up killing himself in the attempt. 

Reg was always worried that he was upsetting someone or something. He moved as quietly as a ghost, tiptoeing through the echoing halls of Grimmauld so as not to disturb Father. He kept his robes pressed and his shoes polished and his hair neat to please Mother. He said ‘thank you’ to Kreacher (such a weirdo) and patted his head as though he were the family pet, not a bloody _house-elf_.

Reg was cleverer than any of them realised. He devoured books like they were Honeydukes bars, had read the entire library at Grimmauld before he had started at Hogwarts. Sometimes he gave himself paper cuts from turning the pages so quickly. He picked up Latin like it was nothing, never seemed to stumble over declensions or get his conjugations in a tangle as Sirius had always done. He even liked _Greek_. Nerd.

He wondered if Reg still climbed up onto the rooftop, even though Sirius wasn’t there any more. He wondered if Reg still sat there with his knees drawn up to his chest, skinny fingers fiddling with his shoelaces, gazing out over the hazy rooftops with that little frown line between his eyebrows.

He wondered if Reg was less agitated now Sirius wasn’t there to blow smoke into his face or disarrange his bookshelf or trip up Kreacher or antagonise Mother. Perhaps he would be able to sleep peacefully now that he wasn’t half-expecting his brother to burst into his room at any hour.

He wondered who comforted Reg during thunderstorms, now. Who he shared a smirk or a raised eyebrow with when Narcissa brought Lucius round for dinner. Who told him that he was a good kid, who reminded him that Mother was mad, who stopped them from filling his head with nonsense and worse.

Reg was good, and kind, and better than all the rest of them put together. But he was also soft and easily influenced. He cracked under the slightest pressure.

It was far too late, now, but Sirius wondered if he had done the right thing after all in leaving home.

**Author's Note:**

> (written for the Hinny discord Prompt Posse #3: think about someone who makes you feel good. What is it about their personality that you find so appealing?)


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